We watched Jithan (a Tamil movie, for the uninitiated) over the weekend. It’s a remake of Gayab (a Hindi movie, God you are really uninitiated aren’t you?), and if you trace the inspiration tree you’ll end up at H.G. Wells. Kinda like Revenge of the Invisible Nerd.
So anyways, the movie had music by Srikanth Deva, son of the legendary music composer Deva (snicker); and I was inspired to write a detailed, analytical review of the soundtrack. So, here goes.
Excrement.
Morning Raga is an Indian-English movie starring Prakash Rao, son of K. Raghavendra Rao - maker of numerous commercial masalas in Telugu. It boasts a cast that’ll make the art movie circles get their collective undergarments into delectable bunches - Shabana Azmi, Perizaad Zorabian, Nasser , the works. It also happens to be a pretty boring movie, which probably enhances its appeal as an art film.
It is a pseudo-psychodrama, something about the irreparable psychological scars that Shabana Azmi suffers after an accident that kills her young son and her best friend. The best friend’s son grows up into a musician, and uses his music to get hitched to a ravishing looking Perizaad Zorabian and also remove the scars from Azmi’s wounded psyche. Though the setting is coastal Andhra Pradesh, everyone speaks in English. Even Thalaivaasal Vijay. But this post is not a review per se. It is an excuse for me to put up a picture of the ravishing Zorabian.
It is also a wishlist of sorts.
Will someone please tell Mani Sharma that rendering “Thaaye Yasodha” with a drum pad in the background is not fusion. Nor is having one female voice scream operatically while another sings a Keerthana. If you are going to tell him that, you might as well add that his music in the movie pretty much sucked. You are also free to generalize and tell him that his music mostly sucks.
Harris Jayaraj talks to Sujatha in the latest issue of Anandha Vikatan (paid subscription required), and tells him he hates this type of “fusion”.
“The music that passes for fusion these days – a tabla, a dholak, a veena, a drum pad and a keyboard all sounding off against each other – I hate it. It is a difficult task to blend traditional Indian instruments and modern cinema.”
While one of you is talking to Mani Sharma, will someone else please take the thesaurus out of Subhash K Jha’s hands. Here is his review of Morning Raaga. Please tell me what the heck this means:
Tamil actor Nasser as Abhinay’s estranged feudal father is portrayed rather uni-dimensionally. Did he have to be a boor to offset the sonorous sensitivity that suffuses the soul of this genteel work of art?
Rajinikanth , star sans pareil until recently, seems unduly nervous about his next venture Chandramukhi. There was a time when he just had to release a movie, sit back (or go to the Himalayas), relax and enjoy success. Now, he has to plot elaborate release strategies; and there were rumors that he wanted Vijay’s Sachin postponed.
Illayaraaja, whose personal fiefdom Tamil Cinema used to be till not so long ago now struggles to release his Thiruvasakam in Symphony. Looks like Raaja will hand the album to the President and Prime Minister on the 14th of April, and the album will be on sale starting early May. There was a time when his face splattered across movie posters guaranteeed a hit.
Raaja’s score for Kamalhassan’s Mumbai Xpress, will not offer any consolation to those diehard fans looking for a spectacular comeback. Very average album. I’ve been told that it has strong jazz undertones, and the music is brilliant in places but overall you are left feeling empty.
Saurav Ganguly, once a strong contender for India’s best ODI batsman is now the butt of jokes like this.
This is more up Manoj’s alley, but the plagiarism is so glaringly obvious here that the moment I listened to the song all I could say was, Ada paavi! (or Holy Crap!)
Prema Prema, by Chakri from the Telugu movie Kabaddi Kabaddi, ~ circa 2004.
Poovarasampoo, by Ilaiyaraaja from Kizhakke Pogum Rail, Tamil, ~circa 1980.
Ada Paavi!
I listened to Uravugal Thodarkathai again today. Who could have known? That a mere song could move you, hard-nosed and all that, so much. Every chord emotional, every riff tugging at heart strings. That malleable music existed, music that could blend in with whatever you were feeling. A frenzied friend by your side, dragging your mind through an emotional kaleidoscope.
Strangely, all that remains at the end is contentment; joy. And the urge to rewind, replay. A little overwhelmed: At this rate, I am never going to go through the hundred other songs that do similar things to my brain. And as always, shock: That one man could compose all of this in one lifetime.
Now, this attempt at rendering the Thiruvasakam - an epic Saivite poem - as “Thiruvasakam in symphony“. Sixty year old man, at the twilight of his career, reduced to desperately seeking recognition that he so richly deserves. I just wish I could go up to him and tell him that after one Uravugal Thodarkathai, the rest is all fluff.
PS : Realmedia version of the song thanks to dhool.com. Also check out http://thiruvasakaminsymphony.com.
There is mere music, and then there is this. From the Master himself.
The music rendering colors for a blind girl …
“When a gentle breeze caresses; colors swirl around in your mind
Thoughts come and go; each a different hue.”
My stranded on an island song.
PS: Low quality real audio file for sampling. Go get the CD if you can.
